This is a scrapbook of surreal details, poems starts, bits of journal.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Notes on Great Pond, Wellfleet MASS, Cape Cod

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Stairs leading down to Great Pond.

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The first day it was raining and windy, but I entered all the same. I wanted to say hello. I wouldn't call Great Pond a friend because it is above attachments. I don't know if it has any concerns. After I got into its water, Great Pond was warmer than the air. I love the effect when the water is like a blanket. Great Pond doesn't care about me. But Great Pond would be just as content if I swam out to the middle, had a cramp, and drown.

This is the greatest secret of Great Pond: if you swim out to where you can't see the sand anymore, you will look down and see a light coming up from the bottom. It looks just like the light I always imagined you would see at the end of your death tunnel. The light you are supposed to go to. I never dreamed it would be underwater. I think this would be the perfect place to die.

About Me

I'm a writer just trying to write. I believe that all great poetry is the result of the game of juxtaposition filtered through the black river of truth that runs between everyone's eyes and legs. My first book of poetry is Appalachian Flood which was released in 2009. I'm working on my new book of poems, The Gods of Greenery, which should be finished soon.